


Erase These Marks On Our Souls

by sabaceanbabe



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabaceanbabe/pseuds/sabaceanbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s the dead of night and Johanna leafs through a magazine in the victors’ lounge, the television with its ever-present Hunger Games feed playing in the corner, when Finnick walks in. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erase These Marks On Our Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [authoresskika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoresskika/gifts).



It’s the dead of night and Johanna leafs through a magazine in the victors’ lounge, the television with its ever-present Hunger Games feed playing in the corner, when Finnick walks in. She can smell the cloying scent of perfume and other things maybe best unnamed long before he walks past her chair. He doesn’t see her, doesn’t appear to see anything when he sets foot on the bottom-most step only to nearly fall flat on his face.

With a snarled “Fuck!” he catches himself, stumbling to the side, and when his back hits the wall, he slides down it to sit on the floor, his suit coat – the only thing he has on above the waist – rucked up behind him. He bangs his head on the wall once before burying his face in his hands.

They’ve known each other less than two weeks, but even so, she doesn’t like to see him like this, so shockingly different than the party boy the media portrays. She tosses her magazine to the table and stands; his head jerks up at the sound, too loud in the quiet room.

"I didn’t realize anyone else was in here," he says. There’s a hunted look in his gorgeous green eyes, but before Johanna can respond to his words, his mask is back in place. He starts to stand as she walks over to him and he gives her a look that’s half smirk and half grin when he accepts the hand she offers. A quick, hard yank and he’s more or less on his feet again, bringing the little hollow at the base of his throat in line with her mouth.

But their bodies are still in motion. It’s Johanna’s turn to stumble and Finnick’s arms close around her, steadying her as she instinctually raises her hands to catch herself. When the wall brings them up short, his arms are still around her and her palms are flat against his bare chest, their bodies otherwise flush against each other.

His pulse hammers beneath her hand and he sucks in a surprised breath. When she looks up, those green eyes grow noticeably darker as they focus intently on her mouth. This close she can smell the difference between his patron’s perfume and his own scent. On impulse, Johanna licks his throat and Finnick spins her around with a growl, pushing her back against the wall as his mouth comes down hard on hers and she opens her mouth to let him in.

"I just want it to go away for a while," he murmurs into her mouth and then grazes his perfect teeth along the side of her neck. "I hate them so fucking much."

Johanna pulls back from him, reaches up to grab his face between her hands and force him to look at her. When she knows she has his attention, although the lust remains in his eyes, she says, “I can’t make it go away, Finnick, but we can maybe replace it with something else.” She brushes her lips over his. “Something to remember when it gets bad.”

"It’s always bad, Jo, especially when it’s not."

She thinks he’s going to leave her then, just walk away, but instead he kisses her again, tongue and teeth and heat. She wraps her arms around his neck, one hand cradling his head and holding him close while with the other she wraps his soft hair around and around one finger. 

She loses track of time and place, there’s nothing but herself and Finnick as she pushes the suit coat off his shoulders and he shrugs out of it altogether, dropping it to the floor. He almost has her shirt unbuttoned when she hears the door to the control room open upstairs. The next thing she knows, Finnick has picked her up and draped her over his shoulder, her legs out front and arms dangling behind him. She starts to pound on his back, but he only laughs as he pushes through the door into the dimly lit sleeping room. He kicks it shut behind them and lays her down mostly gently on one of the beds.

He’s standing over her, still smiling, when she reaches up and pulls him down onto the bed with her, and for the next few hours they do their best to wipe away the pain.


End file.
